


darling, when you're fast asleep / i feel your dreams begin to bleed

by ScreechTheMighty



Series: memories of mother [2]
Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Family Death, Google translate greek, I may give this more than one chapter but it's a one-shot for now, Mistaken Identity, Nightmares, This scene has been living in my head rent-free but it has nowhere to go so, no beta reader we die like men, posted this instead of sleeping, short fic, spousal death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29993583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreechTheMighty/pseuds/ScreechTheMighty
Summary: there is something and there is nothing - there is nothing in-between| A story about dreams.
Relationships: Faye/Kratos (God of War), Kratos/Lysandra (God of War)
Series: memories of mother [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087475
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	darling, when you're fast asleep / i feel your dreams begin to bleed

**Author's Note:**

> As the tags say, this might get another chapter if I can think of something, but for now enjoy the sadness!

She woke in the middle of the night to the sound of strained, frightened breathing.

Faye sat up and looked around the room. They were alone, and the weight in the bed next to her said her husband wasn’t really awake. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see his face twisted into a grimace. She’d seen his nightmares before, but this one seemed worse than usual. He was trembling.

_I have to wake him._

Faye moved carefully to the other end of the bed, just barely out of arm’s reach, just in case, and gave his knee a shake. “Fárbauti?” she said gently.

He tensed briefly at the sound of the nickname, almost as if he’d heard her, but his eyes remained shut. “You’re dreaming, my love,” Faye said, lightly knocking her knuckles against his shins. “You’re all right. You just need to wake up.”

It was difficult to tell if he truly heard her that time, or if he was reacting to something in his dreams. She shook him a bit more roughly this time. “ _Fárbauti_ …”

Kratos woke up with a sharp gasp, as if someone had been holding him underwater. Faye was prepared to move out of the way if he mistook her for a threat, but he only pushed himself up onto one elbow, his breathing still labored, his face half-asleep and confused. Confused enough that she was starting to wonder if he was truly awake.

“Kratos?” Faye said.

His eyes fixed on her, but not _on her_. She wasn’t sure what caused it—maybe the low lighting in the space, maybe the remnants of the dream still clinging to his mind, or maybe he wasn’t really awake at all. But when he spoke, what came out was a name she’d only heard spoken once, and that one time so wrought with pain that she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear him say it again.

“Lysandra?”

Faye froze. The shock of hearing his first wife’s name stalled her response, preventing her from correcting him. By the time she had recovered, he was already sitting up, pulling her into his arms, words spilling out of him in a language she’d only heard in small pieces—profanities, one or two words when he forgot how to say something, never full sentences. But to hear it now…she’d never heard him speak so fluidly. He was more or less fluent in Midgard’s most common language by now, but the lack of familiarity still made him taciturn. She had never thought twice about it; it was the only way she’d heard him speak.

Hearing him now reminded Faye that he was a foreigner. _This_ was his mother tongue, the language he learned from infancy, the one he used to sing to his daughter, to woo his first wife. Something he’d discarded with the rest of his past but that came rushing back in anguished tones.

“Συγγνώμη. Δεν ήξερα. Είχες δίκιο. Ποτέ δεν έπρεπε να φύγω. Λυπάμαι πολύ, αγάπη μου...” 

Faye may not have known the meaning, but she knew what pleading sounded like. And she knew enough about Lysandra’s story to know what he might be pleading for. In that moment though, it felt as if Faye were bearing her ashes and not Kratos. Carrying her specter, taking on her form, however briefly.

“Μην με αφήσεις ξανά. Σ'αγαπώ.”

Faye would not have denied him the comfort of forgiveness—even false forgiveness, if it meant he would sleep—but she didn’t have the words to say it. Speaking the wrong language could be jarring, perhaps waking him up, perhaps pushing him into further despondence. Besides that, she didn’t know Lysandra well enough to guess at what she might have said. But he had to do something, so she gently rubbed his back, shushed his tears, kissed him softly as he continued to whisper into her shoulder.

Eventually his words slowed, then stopped entirely. His breathing calmed, returning to the rhythm of a man asleep. He refused to let her go, but he seemed to be at peace.

Faye carefully lay them back down and settled into his arms. Her emotions formed a vortex in her mind—worry for Kratos, sorrow for a woman long dead, anger at the gods whose meddling lead to her death to begin with. Grateful as she was to have Kratos in her life, the circumstances that lead to him being there were…unthinkable.

No one should have to live through that.

She wondered if he would remember any of it. What he would say if he did. Faye was sure he would feel guilty, and she didn’t want him to. He had a troubled mind, a troubled past. She was sure her dreams would be much the same if she were in his situation. Faye had neither the desire nor the right to judge him for the mistake,

But the next morning, Kratos seemed fine. He wasn’t even quiet and sorrowful the way he sometimes was after a nightmare. He acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide, either; he had tried before, and he was _terrible_ at it. So perhaps everything was fine.

Still, she wanted to be sure.

“Are you all right?” Faye asked.

Kratos glanced up from the cloak he was mending, a confused frown tugging at his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You had a nightmare last night. I just wasn’t sure…” Faye shrugged. “I know, it can be difficult sometimes.”

His confusion grew, then quickly morphed into worry. “I don’t remember. Did I hurt you?”

Faye sighed in relief. “No, no, nothing like that. You were…distressed, talking in your sleep. I was worried about you.” She sat next to him and leaned against him. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

He thought about it, eyes growing distant as he struggled to remember the night before. Eventually, Kratos shook his head. “I really don’t remember,” he said. There was some relief in his voice. “Probably for the best.”

“Hmm.” She kissed his shoulder. “Definitely for the best.”

Fortunately, Kratos did not seem to dwell on it. Faye, meanwhile, did. She tried not to, but her mind kept wandering back to _her_. Lysandra. A woman she knew nothing about, except that Kratos had loved her dearly once. Loved her enough to start a family. Loved her enough that her absence scarred him more deeply than any of the physical wounds he still bore.

Faye didn’t know what happened to the people of Greece when they died—what gods they answered to, who determined where they went when all was said and done. She didn’t know if Lysandra would be able to hear her, the way Faye knew her own lost family could.

Still. Perhaps it was worth a try.

“He misses you,” Faye said softly. The words drifted across the garden, carried by the slight late-summer wind. “He’d take it all back if he could. I hope you know that.” Faye fiddled with her braid as she spoke, nervousness settling in even though she was technically alone. “I hope you’re at peace. Wherever you are. And I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

There was more she wanted to say, but it strange to ask for guidance, considering the circumstances. Maybe one day things would be different, but for now…

“Faye?”

Faye turned around. Kratos was standing near their home, watching her with a confused but fond expression. She must have looked daft, standing there, whispering to no one. “Sorry, love,” she called back. “Thinking out loud.”

She only hoped that Lysandra heard her.

Perhaps she would be able to bring them both some peace.

Faye stayed up as long as she could that night to make sure Kratos slept peacefully. When she did finally fall asleep, she did not remember most of her dream. The only thing she remembered was a brown songbird that settled on her shoulder. She did not recognize its call, but it seemed to be to be a sound of mourning. Loss.

Forgiveness in its most bittersweet form.

Kratos seemed well-rested the next morning. Faye didn’t want to presume, but if there was some assistance from another afterlife, she was grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: bittybonbon on tumblr [drew some art for this fic](https://bittybonbon.tumblr.com/post/645571924300267520/kratos-faye-said-his-eyes-fixed-on-her-but), thank you SO MUCH. <3
> 
> Title and description lyrics are from the mxmtoon remix of "Line Without a Hook" by Ricky Montgomery. I'm on tumblr as screechthemighty, where I refuse to shut up about God of War.
> 
> Greek is supposed to translate to: "I'm sorry. I didn't know. You were right. I never should have gone. I'm so sorry, my love..."


End file.
